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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27373828">Courage, My Love</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohgodmyeyes/pseuds/ohgodmyeyes'>ohgodmyeyes</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anakin Skywalker Doesn't Turn to the Dark Side, Angst, Anidala, Bittersweet, Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings!, F/M, Fluff &amp; Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, One Shot, Padmé Amidala Needs a Hug, Romance, Sad Nonsense, Short One Shot</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 17:40:26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,983</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27373828</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohgodmyeyes/pseuds/ohgodmyeyes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Anakin doesn't burn, but he does kill the Emperor on Mustafar. Does the act of doing so leave him with anything more of himself to give his wife?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>42</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Courage, My Love</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Ani, you did it— you did it, <i>he's gone!"</i></p><p>Padmé beamed at her husband. She was proud of him (even more so than she usually was), because he had just been very brave. He was always brave as far as she knew, of course, but <i>this</i> act of bravery had been something else entirely, even for him. </p><p>Anakin Skywalker had just killed the Emperor.</p><p>The fight hadn't necessarily been long, but it had been exceedingly brutal. Obi-Wan lay dead to the left; a small group of Stormtroopers to the right. If the air around Padmé and Anakin hadn't reeked of hot sulphur, then it surely would have been permeated by the heady scent of burnt flesh. Both the Stormtroopers and Anakin's former Master had been lanced; cut through with searing blades of energy, and the Emperor himself had been sliced virtually into pieces after having had his own wicked lighting turned against him for a second time.</p><p>"I know he is," Anakin answered his wife's assurance, because he could feel it. Anakin had always been able to feel death. "I'm sorry," he said next. "I'm sorry I ever let him use me. I thought I needed him. I thought—"</p><p>"Quiet, Ani, it's alright," said Padmé gently. "You don't need him; you never needed him. Don't you remember what I told you?" She stroked Anakin's face as she spoke; she loved to stroke his face. There was a part of her that had never stopped seeing him as her little blonde boy from Tatooine, and despite his valiance, that was most certainly the part of her that was looking upon him right now. That boy had been kind, generous, and hospitable despite his station. He'd risked his safety to help her years ago, even though she had been a stranger to him then... and he'd just risked it again to help her once more, now that she was his wife.</p><p>"I'm afraid I don't," he laughed weakly. "Tell me again— you know what a slow learner I can be."</p><p>"I told you," she reminded him, "that you didn't have to be anything more than what you are to save me— that you were enough, all by yourself. <i>You've always been enough, Ani."</i></p><p>He could feel fresh tears well up in his eyes at those words. Anakin's head hurt; it felt as though he'd been crying for days. Since he was a little boy living with his mother, he'd never once felt as though he'd been 'enough'. In fact, his mother and his wife had been the only two people to ever tell him that he was. It was no wonder he'd believed the lies of the Emperor; no wonder he hadn't been able to decode that awful vision of Padmé's death when it had first invaded his dreams. </p><p>"Oh," he said, still smiling up at Padmé's adoring visage, before admitting, "Maybe you were right... but now that I've done it, I'm not sure I have it in me to do much else." His words didn't come easily; in fact, his voice was raspy and strained. He was laying on the ground right now, not too far from where Padmé had landed her star skiff when she'd come to rescue him from himself. She was kneeling beside him, holding his head in her hand atop her ever-shrinking lap. His ear happened to be pressed against her stomach; he could feel the baby shifting as she spoke to him. Was it a boy or a girl? She'd never ventured to find out, and Anakin had never asked. </p><p>"Of course you do," she told him encouragingly, relishing the sensation of his hair tangled up in her fingers. "You just need time to heal— heal, and rest. C-3PO is in the ship; he'll help me lift you to safety. We'll get you to Polis Massa—"</p><p>Anakin interrupted her with a cry; a sharp, pained yelp. It stole the smile from his face, but only briefly; Anakin was still happier than he'd been in what felt like a very long time. Unfortunately, though, the Emperor hadn't been the only person injured by that contemptible Sith lightning of his— Anakin, too, had taken a particularly ferocious blast of it, prior to finally managing to turn it back on its conjuror. He'd held an adequate amount of strength after the fact to cut the old liar apart in a fit of righteous anger, but it hadn't been enough to keep him from falling when the battle was over.</p><p>He was in pain now; excruciating pain, and he was coming into possession of a very distinct feeling that he was not going to leave Mustafar alive. </p><p>"Ani," whispered Padmé fearfully, leaning into him closely in spite of the cumbersome bulge of her midsection.</p><p>"It's okay," he said, through a set of pale, trembling lips. <i>"It's okay.</i> Did you know it was— <i>augh!</i>— me you needed saving from all along?"</p><p>"I can't believe that, Anakin. I <i>won't</i> believe it. You—"</p><p>"I killed children, Padmé... and I'd have killed you, too, if you hadn't opened my eyes to what Emperor Palpatine was trying to do." The old man had been relying on Anakin's rage and terror to fuel his plot to control the galaxy; he felt foolish for ever having believed in it, and terribly guilty about what he'd done before coming to his senses. </p><p>"None of that matters now that he's gone," Padmé said soothingly. Anakin knew very well that he'd done terrible things in his quest to rescue her from a false threat, and she loved him enough to know that there was nothing they couldn't work through, now that he understood. "I'm going to go and get C-3PO; we'll take you back to the ship, and—"</p><p>"No," he interrupted once again. "Please— I need you to stay with me."</p><p>"I won't be gone long," she promised him, still stroking his face. "Just long enough to get you—"</p><p><i>"It won't work,"</i> he confessed, that radiant smile of his finally fading away entirely. "It's too late. His power was too much; the lightning..." He coughed then, because his chest was starting to feel tight, and breathing was becoming arduous for him— arduous, and painful, too. </p><p>"Don't say things like that, Anakin," Padmé scolded kindly, but her husband was already starting to lose consciousness. Again, he'd always been able to feel death... and he'd never, ever felt it more acutely than he was feeling it right now. </p><p>As her face— the kind, beautiful, <i>angelic</i> face he'd fallen in love with all those years ago— began to fade into the darkness of Mustafar's smokey sky, he told her what he now understood he should always have been telling her all along: <i>"Thank you,"</i> he said, weakly but vehemently. He was grateful to her for loving him; more than that, he was grateful to her for forgiving him. For <i>wanting</i> him. No one had ever cared for him so unconditionally; no one since his mother. </p><p>He hadn't been able to save Shmi, but he could save Padmé... and now, he had. </p><p>Death was an appropriate punishment for what he'd done under the Emperor's influence, even if it meant he'd never get to meet the baby whose tiny hand or foot was currently pressing into the side of his face. Anyway, he thought, no baby needed a father like him— a father who had taken innocent lives; a father who was so prone manipulation. </p><p>"Anakin, please," implored Padmé. "I can't do this without you— <i>don't you understand that I can't do this without you?"</i> She was strong; she knew she was strong, but her baby needed a father, and she was sure Anakin was perfectly suited to that job— it was the one he was destined to do, more than anything else. Anyway, she had never known anyone with a greater capacity for love... and what did a child need more than it needed love?</p><p>Anakin didn't hear her. He was already slipping away; somewhere far beyond the physical realm— somewhere he could no longer be reached at will by the living. Would he see his mother, he wondered? Would he see Obi-Wan; Qui-Gon? Would they be proud of him, or would they be angry that he'd died without bringing balance to the Force? <i>Had</i> he brought balance to the Force?</p><p>He didn't know that any more than he knew whether his wife was going to have a baby boy or girl.</p><p>Padmé still held onto him, even though she now knew for certain that he was gone. His head lolled, and his laborious breathing ceased; when she leaned down to kiss his head, the lack of response was palpable. Very suddenly, she felt acutely the heat surrounding her. She had barely registered it before, but now seemed as though it were threatening to smother her. As tears began to sting her eyes and pour unreservedly down her face, C-3PO appeared at the top of the ramp leading up to the ship's interior. </p><p>"Senator!" he called, as he began to amble his way toward the newly-grieving widow, "Is there anything I might do to help?"</p><p>She nodded emphatically through her heaving sobs, and motioned for the droid to join her as she made her way unsteadily to her feet. Despite the challenge inherent in both balancing and lifting in her present condition, she helped him; helped him load the bodies of Anakin and Obi-Wan onto the ship. Traditionally, Jedi immolated their dead; however, she wasn't about to leave them here on Mustafar. If they had to burn, she thought, then they ought to do it somewhere peaceful. </p><p>Once safely inside, she sat down at the helm and tried as best she could to blink her tears away; started to program with shaking hands a flight path to Naboo. It was the safest place she could think of to go; besides that, she herself was beginning to feel pain— a unique type of pain. A pain that told her the birth of her baby may very well be imminent. </p><p>Fear overtook her with great suddenness. How could she pilot a ship like this? Her husband was dead; so was his best friend, and now she was more likely than not going into labour. For a very brief moment, she began to feel hopeless— helpless. She was quite unused to feeling this way; so unused to it that it unnerved her on top of everything else... that is, until she heard a voice. It was familiar and distinct; more than either of those things, it was tremendously comforting. </p><p><i>"Courage, my love,"</i> it said. <i>"I haven't gone far."</i> </p><p>Those tears that hadn't stopped coming since Anakin had faded away in her arms were now all of a sudden juxtaposed against another broad smile— a smile not unlike the one she had offered her sweet, brave husband following his defeat of the malevolent Emperor.</p><p>With the solace offered by those words— <i>his</i> words— Padmé started up the ship, newly confident in her ability to manage this journey by herself. Not just the flight, but the impending birth, and cremation of her husband, too. </p><p>If she couldn't hold Anakin, then she would at least be able to hold the child they'd created in the throes of their love for one another... and if that wasn't enough, then what was?</p><p>"Courage, my love," she whispered, bolstering her own resistance against the stark reality of her situation before letting her ship take her home.</p><p>The scenic lake country of Naboo awaited her, along with a new life... and a new family. Nothing in the galaxy could take that away from her— not the Emperor, and certainly not the fearsome spectre of her own grief.</p><p>Anakin Skywalker had been, perhaps, the most honest person she had ever met: If he said he was near, then he was, and that was all she needed to know.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This doesn't even entirely make sense, and it sort of ignores a lot of technicalities (why doesn't Anakin get all gnarly like Palpatine after getting hit by the lighting? Why does he completely abandon his politics? How does Ani know <i>he</i> was going to kill her?), but husbando was watching Thor (the first one) last night, and the part where Jane thinks Thor is gonna die is just so sweet. My brain was all, 'uhg I wish this was Star Wars and that Chris Hemsworth was Hayden Christiensen,' so I wrote this lol.</p><p>(Sorry he actually did die here, though.)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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